Allyson's POV
The dinner Michael had arranged was flawless. Every moment, every detail, every stolen glance between us felt like he had reached directly into my dreams and made them real. Now, standing alone on the yacht's deck afterward, I gripped the smooth railing and let the ocean breeze caress my skin.
I breathed in slowly, my eyes drifting closed as the salt air filled my lungs. The gentle rhythm of waves against the hull quieted the chaos in my mind. Then I felt it - powerful arms sliding around my waist from behind.
Michael.
Without hesitation, I melted back against his solid chest, his heat wrapping around me like a protective shield. That intoxicating scent of his - rich cologne mixed with something purely masculine - made my pulse quicken. His fingers traced along my arms, creating delicious tremors that had nothing to do with the evening chill.
